Heartbeat Away from Death
by Jemmz
Summary: Grace Mason, OC. How will Tom's daughter fare when an alien race invades and the life she knows is cruelly snatched away?
1. Prologue

**Heartbeat Away from Death - Prologue**

_**A/N:** This is a fic about my OC, Grace Mason, Tom and Rebecca's oldest child. She is portrayed by Lyndsy Fonseca. You can find videos for her on my channel (jemmalynette) and a beautiful character study vid made for me by littletonpace over at her channel. I hope you enjoy this fic!_

Difficult as it was to remember, she could still picture the streets of her neighbourhood as they were before the invasion. Those grey, desolate houses where her friends used to live. Those old, crumbled roads where she used to ride her bike when she was younger. It was hard to believe that there was ever a time when she and her family could walk through their own town without being afraid for their lives. But this was how it was now. This was war. And it wasn't going to end any time soon.

Grace and her brothers were in school when it happened. Another boring lecture from her High School History teacher was gradually sending her to sleep. She had a certain passion for history that was no doubt inherited from her father – in fact, he was quite fond of the idea of teaching her the subject at college once she graduated and finally left her silly High School days behind. But her current teacher, Mr. Ward, was far from being a great speaker, and Grace couldn't stand it when he went on a rant like this.

She wished she could pay more attention. Graduation was soon and she needed good grades if she was going to get in to college. She gathered that falling asleep in class would not look good on her application. Nevertheless, she was a good student most of the time and she was mainly happy with her life—she wasn't as clever as Ben, nor was she as popular as Hal, but as the eldest of the two, she felt a kind of complacency with her role in the family. She'd been ten when Matt was born, but having played the role of older sister to two rebellious siblings already, she was well-prepared for him. He was only seven, and still in that sweet little boy mode, so he and Grace got on the best. She squabbled with her other brothers and got into stupid arguments with them all the time. She hoped to make the most of her time with Matt before he entered that angsty, rebellious phase that she, Hal and Ben had all gone through. As for her parents, being almost an adult herself, Grace often found herself on their side whenever they were fighting with the boys. Other times, she was the one fighting against them. They had their fair share of arguments but she loved and appreciated them so much. Especially at this busy time when they had been so supportive. Her father had offered her extra tutoring to help get her grades up and her mother had helped her write her applications for college. They had been with her every step of the way.

But college would be a new chapter, she thought. A chance to really figure things out and find herself. She knew she'd love it. Not just for the parties (she never considered herself much of a party girl anyway), but for the opportunity to learn and strengthen herself as a person, without all the stupid distractions that came with being around immature High School students. Her father being a professor there would just be an added bonus; he always brought history to life. As a little girl, she'd listen to his tales from the past with such intent, as if the events he were describing were happening right at that very moment.

Sweeping a few of her brown curls out of her eyes, she realised that Mr. Ward was setting up the television set. "Finally, a change of pace," she thought with some relief as the older man blew the dust off an old VHS tape that looked like it had seen better days. The class waited impatiently as he fumbled with it for a moment, and Grace turned to Zoe on the desk beside her to roll her eyes. Zoe smirked and took out her phone. The way her fingers ran so quickly across the keypad told Grace she was probably texting a boy. Mr. Ward didn't seem to notice as the video's opening titles finally came up on the small screen of the television. She just had time to stifle a yawn and read "Theodore Roosevelt—His Life and Legacy" when the screen suddenly cut to black and gave off that horrible fuzzy static noise. Not only that, but the lights had turned off too, leaving the classroom in darkness. She heard Zoe give an annoyed huff beside her, mumbling something about her phone not working. The class started to murmur excitedly.

"Settle down, everyone. It's probably just a power-cut," Mr. Ward told them, but everyone had already taken out their phones to see if the same thing had happened to theirs. None of them worked. It was as if they had all just died.

Other teachers knocked to see what was going on. The same was happening in their classes—everything had died. Every electrical device had stopped working.

"What's going on?" Zoe muttered, but Grace could only shrug. She wondered if the same thing had happened in her brothers' classes. They were probably taking advantage of the situation—Hal, at least. He was probably at Rita's desk right now, reciting her his best lines and she was probably giggling and cooing in response. His way with girls was truly baffling. To Grace, he'd always be her dumb brother. She thought even less of Hal's choice of women. They were always the kind of girl Grace butted heads with, girls she couldn't trust. And then when they inevitably broke Hal's heart, Grace was always the one to help him get back on his feet. She figured Rita would be no exception.

The class had become rather rowdy by this point, sitting up on their desks and talking busily with each other. Mr. Ward tried to call for order but the class was well and truly out of his grasp now. He was still trying to talk over everyone when a student from another class came in and nearly knocked him over.

"Oh my God, have you seen it? It's huge! Have you seen it yet?"

Nobody knew what he was talking about, but everyone followed him anyway despite Mr. Ward shouting after. Half the school filled the corridors—they were all following outside into the quad to see what was happening. Grace was swallowed in the crowd, being pushed and shoved until the sea of students released her in to the spacious outdoors. The first thing she noticed was how incredibly dark it had gotten over the school. And then she heard the gasps and the cries of terror.

Looking up, she saw the ships hovering in the sky right above them.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

All that was six months ago. Six months of hiding and scavenging, struggling to survive. If someone had told Grace a year ago that there was going to be an alien invasion, she would have laughed in their face. But it happened, and her normal life—her silly High School one where she dreamt of going to college and making her father proud—was over. College applications were the last thing on her mind now. The only thing she could think about was trying to get through the day.

Boom; the explosion of a nearby car sent Grace tumbling to the ground. She could almost feel the fire raging inside her, the rumble of the explosion rattling through her body. And it _hurt_. Two men emerged beside her and took an arm each. Tom, her father, and her brother, Hal, quickly helped her to her feet.

"Come on," Tom urged, leading them to an empty store. It was dark inside. Rolls of tatty fabrics hung from the walls. It smelt like ash and burning rubber. The three of them took cover under the counter, concealed in the shadows. Grace felt her heart pounding as a mech came stomping past. She saw other fighters, desperately scrambling along the road, crawling to escape, only to get zapped by mechs. She covered her hand with her mouth.

Needless to say, the scout for food had not gone well. They had just loaded up a cart when the aliens made an attack. The cart was now lying in the road somewhere, its contents sprawled out across the damp concrete. That food would have lasted them days. Now they would have to return to base empty-handed, leaving everyone with empty hopes as well as empty bellies.

It had taken a while for her father to accept his kids as fighters. For months all they had done was go from house to house, scavenging, trying to get their hands on whatever they could find to survive. That was probably the worst of it so far. Running, hiding, searching for scraps like scared little mice.

Then their mother died, and everything changed.

It still felt so raw in Grace's memory, but it was months ago now. It was before they joined the resistance, before Tom told them they had to leave their home.

It was still early. Grace was already up – she couldn't sleep so she was sat downstairs reading a book. _Childhood's End_, a science fiction classic. She realised the irony when she picked it up, but even more so when she learned of the fictitious aliens' interested in human children.

Her mother, Rebecca, wanted to go on a supply run for more food and Grace agreed to go with her. They enlisted the help of Doctor Harris, Tom's friend, who was also up and about. The three of them headed out to the closest abandoned grocery store and filled an entire bag. It took both Grace and Rebecca to carry it.

"Your father and brothers better appreciate this," her mother joked as they struggled with the supplies.

Grace smirked. "They will. Maybe too much. I bet they'd have eaten it all within a day."

Doctor Harris dragged his own bag beside them. "Food is precious now. We're going to have to ration this. Soon the food stores will be empty, and then what do we do?"

Grace paused a beat, her arm aching from the heavy bag, full of food that may have to last them weeks. "We'll find a way," she said. "It can't be like this forever."

Harris smiled. "If only I had your optimism, young lady."

Rebecca laughed and Grace raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"You're just like your father," she said, grinning and shaking her head as they walked. "Always looking on the bright side, even in an alien invasion."

Grace chuckled at that. People often compared her to her father. She quite liked hearing it.

She wanted to hold on to that moment, she and her mother laughing and smiling as if the world hadn't gone to hell. It almost felt like old times.

They let their guard down, just for a moment, and they suffered for it.

All her mind could focus on after that was her mother on the ground, bleeding. A skitter attack caught them by surprise. It was too painful to remember, but she couldn't stop thinking about it – the sight of her mother, helpless, dying, her eyes wide with shock as the light from them gradually faded. It still didn't feel real, like it had to be some horrible dream she couldn't wake up from. She could still hear herself, calling her mother's name, horrified, shaking her, screaming at her.

"God, no, no, no," sobbed Grace. "Mom! Mom, please get up, please get up!"

Nothing. And then the skitters tried to grab her.

"Come on! We have to go!" the doctor cried, already stepping back from the approaching monsters.

"I'm not leaving her!" choked Grace through tears. "You need to help me get her back to the house!"

"You can't be serious!" A look of horror crossed his features as the aliens neared them. Grace looked up through blurry eyes and felt her heart suddenly freeze. Two of them stared back at her with their ugly, beady eyes, their many legs shuffling behind them. Then she noticed Harris was gone.

For a moment, Grace could do nothing. She was still holding on to Rebecca's hand, still warm, squeezing tightly. And then the skitter drew back its long arm and smacked her forcefully in the face. Grace felt her body lift and then a sudden, crashing pain as she landed halfway across the street.

She landed on her side, the pain radiating. They were going to kill her. Take her or kill her, she didn't know which was worse. Tears streamed from her eyes as she fell back onto her elbows, the skitters approaching her again. "Stay away from me!" she screamed. She got to her feet, fear filtering through her body. She was shaking violently. She looked at her mother on the ground, sprawled out with the supplies, the skitters walking over her body to get to Grace. She didn't know what else to do. She ran. Heartbroken and screaming, she ran as fast as she could. She left her mother's body and fled back in tears.

Her father would retrieve the body later and lay Rebecca's remains down on the picnic table in the backyard. Grace's heart would shatter every time she looked at Tom, and every time she saw Ben, sitting forlornly by the window, as if their mother would come back to them. Hal shut himself way, and maybe that was for the best. He looked so much like Rebecca she feared she would crumble at the sight of him, too. And for the longest time, she had a sobbing Matt attached to her. She couldn't be strong for him that day. They'd cried together for hours, and then Tom told them they had to leave.

Tears pricked her eyes as she remembered it. She had been dreaming about it again and woken up with damp eyes. Luckily she hadn't woken Matt, who was snuggled up beside her. She must have fallen asleep reading him a book. _Harry Potter_. She'd smiled when she'd seen it in the bedroom of one of the abandoned houses. Tom used to read the series to her and her brothers when they were younger and she thought Matt would want to listen to it. She was exhausted from the failed supply run at the armoury the previous night, but she didn't mind. Matt was still on a birthday high. A fun story and a nice, warm bed made a pleasant change and Grace needed to take her mind off everything anyway.

With the scavenging mission being a bust, spirits were low and everyone was sick of eating oatmeal, which Grace fully expected to be downstairs waiting for them at breakfast. Their stake-out at the armoury hadn't gone any better, with Jimmy exposing them and nearly getting everyone killed by a mech blast. The kid had been beating himself up about it last night. She sighed and sleepily pulled herself out of bed, making sure not wake up Matt. He stirred and rolled over, still in a peaceful slumber.

Looking out the window, she could see the streets filled with fighters gathering supplies and setting out breakfast and dining tables. On the field in the distance was the civilian base, figures like ants wandering around, walking in and out of tents and moving supplies around. It was one of those rare, peaceful mornings; one where the sun was shining and the sky was blue; one where they weren't rudely awoken by alien robots wanting to kill them.

On the sill was a piece of paper. Matt's drawing. She picked it up, hot tears stinging her eyes again as her finger traced over the cartoon versions of her family, all standing together, smiling happily: Grace, Hal, Ben, Matt, Tom, and Rebecca. He had drawn this while they were on a scouting mission. He'd been doing a lot of it lately. Anne's idea. It was a way to keep the kids occupied anyway.

The opening of the door jolted her. Her father was standing there, giving her a weary smile. But then he noticed her watering eyes and his face fell with concern. "Are you okay?"

Grace swiped quickly at her eyes and smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm fine."

Tom seemed unconvinced, but let it go. "We're moving out soon. Wake your brother and meet us downstairs for breakfast?"

"Sure."

He watched her for a beat longer, still concerned, still unsure how to make things better. But then he smiled a thanks at her and headed downstairs.

Grace went to wake Matt. He looked so content. It seemed cruel to bring him back to this devastating reality, but today was a new day and there was plenty to do. "Okay, sleepyhead. Time to get up." She nudged him gently and he groaned, obviously too comfortable under his new duvet to get up.

"Come on, Matt. It's breakfast time."

She thought she might have to tear the duvet off him, just like their mother used to do when they refused to get up for school in the mornings, but luckily she didn't have to.

Outside, they were greeted by a group of fighters already sitting down to eat. Among them were Dai, Click, Anthony, and her brother Hal.

"Mornin," chirped Hal, handing his siblings a bowl of oatmeal each. "Enjoy."

"Aw, man," moaned Matt, looking down at the sticky, grey substance in the bowl. "Oatmeal again?" He made a disgusted face.

"We passed a Denny's. Maybe you can get a grand slam," Hal teased.

Matt glared at him. "Bite me."

"Not much of a morning person, are you, Matthew?" joked Anthony. The guys chuckled.

Grace wasn't overjoyed at having oatmeal again either but she shoved a big spoonful in her mouth and made her face brighten. "Mmm. What're you talking about? This is delicious!"

"You could win an Oscar with that performance," Hal said sarcastically.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's not a performance. It's _good_. Try it, Matt."

Click joined in. "You know what?" he said, taking a bite of his own gruel-like breakfast. "It _is _good. Mmm-mmm. Civvies must have added a secret ingredient to it."

"It'll put hairs on your chest," Anthony chimed in, grinning.

"It's either oatmeal or dirt," Hal added.

Matt shook his head, unconvinced. "Whatever."

As they were about to tuck in to their meals, a weary-looking couple came up to Grace, asking about their child. Grace felt her heart break for them. They wanted to know if she had seen their son while she and Hal were out scouting the other day, but she couldn't recall. The only person she remembered seeing was Ben.

A few months ago, when Grace and her family first came across the Second Mass, they had lost Ben in all the madness. During an attack, she and her brothers had arranged to meet up with their father at Hal's friend's old house, but Ben never showed. They'd spent so long looking for him, but it wasn't until the other day, while Grace and Hal were checking the path for skitters and mechs, that they found him.

The relief of seeing him alive was instantly swept aside by the horror of realising that he was harnessed; a slave to the aliens, marching robotically in a platoon of dozens of other kids, all with those long, shell-like harnesses attached to their spines. Mechs led them at the helm and she and Hal were forced to hide in a ditch. They couldn't save him. Not then. Hal was adamant they go rescue him when they returned to the group to tell them what they had seen, but their father was reluctant. He forbid it, at least until they were prepared for a rescue mission. Hesitantly, Grace agreed. Of course she felt Hal's anger, his desire to save their brother immediately, but she knew it was suicide. They would save him when the time was right.

She had seen the fear and fury in Hal's eyes. He would die saving Ben, and Tom knew it too. That's why they had to wait, prepare, and then act. And by the looks of it, Hal was geared up to go now. He had bags under his eyes, but he was still bright and perky – a show for his brother and sister, no doubt.

She turned back to the couple and gave her most sincere apologies. Their faces dropped with disappointment, tears glimmering in their eyes. They nodded sadly.

"If we see him, we'll let you know right away," promised Grace. She knew how they felt, it was torture not knowing if your loved one was okay. But she had no answers to give them. As soon as they were gone, Grace turned back to Hal who was shaking his head.

"They asked me the same thing ten minutes ago." He paused. "Wish I had something to tell them, you know...but as soon as I saw Ben..."

"I know," said Grace. "Me too. Nothing else mattered. Just Ben."

"Are you guys going to go look for him tonight?" Matt asked hopefully.

Grace glanced at Hal for a moment and then squeezed Matt's shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that's the plan. We still need to sort some stuff out with dad."

"Can I come?" added Matt, big eyes gleaming. "I wanna help get Ben back."

Grace wasn't sure what to say. She looked at Hal again.

"Matt, you can't come," he said. "You're too -"

"Busy," Anthony interrupted. "Yeah. With so many people going to save your brother, who's gonna help run things back at camp, huh?"

Dai nodded. "Weaver could use some help watching the perimeter, that sort of thing."

Matt sighed and gave a half-shrug. "Okay. I guess."

"Good man," Click grinned.

Grace smiled at them. She was grateful that the guys were so good with Matt. He was always wanting to help, but he was just too young. Then again, there were quite a few kid fighters she would have deemed too young to be holding a fire-arm, herself and Hal included. She just wanted to shield Matt from the fighting a little longer. She knew that's what her dad wanted too. It was hard enough for him to see his little girl firing a machine gun at aliens from other planets, and then Hal, who he never even trusted with a set of car keys let alone an assault rifle. Seeing Matt get messed up in all that would be way too much for him.

Later, Grace took Matt down to the civilian base where everyone had already started work. The two of them weaved through tents and people gathering around fires, others were still lining up for their breakfast or sitting at picnic tables. The base had come alive, like they were all on one big camping trip. They dodged some little kids playing with a ball and a group carrying buckets of water from the river. Hal and Karen were walking together, struggling with large canteens in either hand.

"Need any help?" offered Grace.

"Nah, I got it," replied Hal. "You take the peanut to his class. Gotta educate those bright, young minds."

Matt huffed.

"_I_ can give you a hand?" a timid voice asked behind them. Lourdes approached them, smiling warmly at Hal.

"Hey, Lourdes," said Grace. Lourdes placed a strand of her long, brunette hair behind her ear and greeted Grace with a smile before looking back towards Hal. Grace didn't really know much about Lourdes, but she seemed like a nice girl and she had a kind of optimism that was ideal for the resistance at the moment. Plus, she was obviously fond of Hal.

"Ah, that's okay," Hal told her. "But thanks."

"You could take mine," Karen suggested, handing out her canteen. Lourdes seemed taken aback for a second. Grace rolled her eyes. She knew Karen a little better. She had been at the Second Mass when Grace and her family had joined, and she too had taken a shine to Hal. In fact, they were together, and Grace's protective instincts had kicked in immediately. Karen was a good scout and a good fighter – plus, she and Hal worked well together as a team – but Grace didn't like her. She didn't hate her, just didn't appreciate her attitude sometimes, especially when it came to Lourdes. She could do without the sickly, public displays of jealousy Karen all too clearly projected onto the poor girl. At least Hal could see it too. Grace could tell when he was embarrassed.

"It's okay," he said. "She's joking."

"I am?" asked Karen, annoyed.

"You are," Grace almost snapped. "See you guys later."

She took Matt's hand but he immediately shook her off, blushing. Then they heard Anne's Uncle Scott call for all the children to come and sit down. He had created a makeshift outdoor classroom with picnic tables for the kids to sit on. Grace was taking Matt to join the class.

She gave him a gentle push and he sat down as Uncle Scott stood behind a wooden box, the stars and stripes draped across it – an extra shine of motivation for the kids, perhaps. He welcomed the group to his class. Today was biology and Grace agreed to help out for a bit. She stood at the front next to Uncle Scott as he began his lesson.

"Biology—it's from a Greek word meaning 'Life discourse.' That's from the dictionary. But you know what it is to me? To me, it is the study of the most miraculous gift that has ever been bestowed on us. It's the study of the wonder and the beauty and the mystery that is life itself, and to study it is to, well, is to learn humility and responsibility and gratitude, right?" Matt raised his arm. "Yeah, Matt?"

"We're not grateful for skitters," Matt said solemnly. Grace gave him a sad smile.

"No," Scott replied gravely. "We are not grateful for Skitters. And we're not grateful for parasites or cancer, either but they're part of life, and we're grateful for the chance to study them. And hopefully by studying them, we'll be able to better figure out how to kill them."

_Kill them,_ Grace repeated in her head. She had thought of nothing else since all this began. Killing skitters. Especially when her mother was killed.

She noticed her dad approach the class and he gave her a wave. She smiled back. It seemed he wanted to talk to Uncle Scott, so she was given instructions to hand out pens and paper to the kids so that they could write down all the things that make a human a human, and an alien an alien. Five minutes later, Matt seemed stuck. She knelt down next to him.

"I can't think," he muttered. She looked at his paper. He had written down numerous physical features such as 'fingernails', 'noses', and 'skin' in the human section. All he had written down in the alien section was the word 'evil'.

"Well, think, Matt. What makes you different from a skitter?"

"I'm from earth?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and what else? What about...a soul? You think aliens have souls?"

He shook his head. "No way."

"Do aliens have morals?"

"No!"

"Do they have hearts?" she paused. "Well, maybe they do. But not one as big as yours," she tapped him on the chest.

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Grace."

"No worries, Matty." Grace started helping the other kids when she saw Jimmy sitting alone by a camp fire, bouncing a dirty tennis ball on the ground, misery etched across his entire face. "I'll be right back," she said to the class before heading towards the young teenager.

She sat cross-legged next to him. "Hey."

"Hey," he mumbled, barely looking at her.

"Do you wanna join Uncle Scott's class?" she offered, hoping it might take his mind off the other night. It was clearly still bothering him. "He's teaching biology."

"That class is for little kids," he retorted. "Besides, what's the point? What's the point in doing anything? I'm useless."

She frowned. Jimmy was only a kid, but he was a good fighter. Even Weaver, their leader, thought so. It sucked seeing him so put down like this. She felt bad for him. Unlike Grace, Jimmy didn't have his family. He only had the Second Mass, and he felt like he had let them down when he went chasing after his dog, Nemo, while they were at the armoury, exposing them and leaving them vulnerable to attack. He nearly got himself and everyone else killed. But Grace didn't blame him. He was just trying to save his friend. He had the dog's tennis ball in his hand and was gripping it tightly.

"You're not useless," she told him. "You're a great fighter. Everyone thinks so."

He looked so disappointed in himself, his blue eyes gleaming sadly. His rifle was laid down next to him. Grace was still getting used to seeing kids with weapons. As if seeing Hal kitted out with rifles and hand guns wasn't terrifying enough, here was this thirteen-year-old kid, a soldier. She felt the handle of her own gun from her holster dig into her hip, reminding her she wasn't much better off. They were all soldiers when they shouldn't be. Killers. But they had to be, this was their world now.

"Thanks, but everyone knows I screwed up," sulked Jimmy. "Now nobody trusts me."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Jimmy. It doesn't mean they don't trust you. Weaver wouldn't have made you a fighter if he didn't." She waited until he glanced up at her, and then she smiled warmly at him. "We know you've got our backs."

Success. She had made him smile at least. Albeit a sort of sad, resigned smile, but it was a start. She knew it was tough making mistakes. She still blamed herself for her mother dying. That's why she wasn't as impulsive as she used to be, why she agreed with Tom when he said they should wait to save Ben. She didn't want to be responsible for another family member dying because of her poor choices. There was too much at stake now. Jimmy knew that, that's why he was beating himself up about it. But as one of the youngest fighters, he still craved the approval of his elders. At eighteen, Grace wasn't the youngest, but she was still regarded somewhat as a kid, especially by her father. She and her brothers would always be kids to him. That's why he found it hard to accept them as fighters, to let them go on the dangerous missions. He never wanted to fight, he just wanted to protect his family – to survive. But after all the attacks, after people started dying, after Rebecca died...it became too much to ignore. The resistance was their chance to strike back, and it was the best way to find Ben.

Poor Ben. She wondered if he was in pain, or if he was just blissfully unaware of it all.

She felt a tug on her jacket. A young girl, Amelia, was standing behind her, wanting to know if Grace could take her to the bathroom.

The 'bathroom', at least for civilians living on the field out of tents, was currently a spot away from camp, just passed the treeline. Grace waited for the little girl a short distance away, gun in hand – just in case.

There was no particular reason to suspect anything would happen; it was just a precaution, so Grace was pretty at ease while she waited. But beginning to get impatient, she called after the girl to hurry up. No reply. Maybe she had gone too far out to hear? She called again, louder, but there was no response. After waiting a beat longer, Grace thought it was time she ought to check on her.

As she advanced into the thick woods, she thought she could see someone in the distance. "Amelia?"

No. It wasn't Amelia.

The build was far too large and masculine. There was someone else out there. She raised her weapon, but the figure was on the move.

"Stop!" she yelled before taking off running. The man was fast, but not fast enough. She was catching up to him now. She stopped when she saw him come to a clearing.

"Who are you?" she demanded. She came through the trees, gun poised, and realised this had been a bad idea.

The guy wasn't alone. He had a couple of men with him, standing by an old, rusty convertible. She unintentionally held her breath, her palms sweating inside her fingerless gloves as she kept her gun raised at the first intruder. He turned slowly. He had this kind of rough, biker image that unsettled her – dark clothes; long, unkempt hair; shabby beard; and a sneering, conceited grin that made a shiver run through her.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said in a cocky, Southern drawl. "You don't wanna point that thing at me."

She knew she was outnumbered, but she still stood her ground. "Yeah? Why not?"

The two other guys he was with raised their own weapons. She stood, frozen. One of them looked over at the first man. "What do we do, Billy? If we let her go, she'll go running back to her camp and they'll hunt us down like dogs. They'll know we've been _watching_."

"Could just kill her," the other suggested.

Grace bit her tongue. "Watch it, I can still shoot at least one of you before I go down."

The man known as Billy looked impressed. "Nah, she has a bit of fire in 'er," he told his friends, grinning. "We could use her."

He neared Grace, staring intensely at her. She kept her gun up, pointed right at his heart, though her own heart was racing faster and faster. "Put the gun down," he murmured in a low, gravelly voice. "There ain't no scenario where you can get outta this without being shot in the head. I know we both wanna avoid _that_."

Her breathing deep, her pulse raising, she swallowed hard and finally lowered her gun. Billy took it off her and grinned with crooked, yellowing teeth. "Good choice, sweetheart."

Before she knew it, she was being grabbed and bundled into a convertible with three strange, armed men.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews/follows! I have been looking forward to writing Grace so I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)_

**Chapter 2**

The road to wherever they were going was rough, if it was a road at all. Grace was in the back of the car, her eyes covered and her hands bound, so whenever they went over a bump, she would launch a few inches in the air and come crashing back down onto her seat without being able to steady herself. She was beginning to regret eating that oatmeal after all. The guy in the back with her was pretty quiet, but whoever were in the front seats kept muttering to each other.

They came to a stop and Grace noted how long the journey had taken. Perhaps, when she escaped, it would give her some idea about how to get back. One of the guys pulled her out of the car before leading her inside. She noticed a distinct echo from their footsteps, as if they were in a wide hallway. Another useful clue. One of the guys behind her gave her a shove.

"Easy!" she snapped.

"You sure this was a good idea, Billy?"

"Shut up, Whitey. Make sure her wrists are bound good. Don't want any trouble."

After a few twists and turns, they sat her down in a chair and secured her to it, taking off the sack covering her eyes. She blinked a few times, eyes adjusting. She was in a dark room. Empty apart from some boxes and a few stationery supplies on shelves. The gang were in front of her. She took a deep breath.

"What now?" she said angrily.

Billy raised a thick eyebrow. "Nuthin' scares you much, does it?"

She glared at him as fiercely as she could manage. The truth was she was terrified. She fully expected these guys to hurt her. Question was, why had they taken her here to do it? What the hell did they want? All she knew was that she couldn't let them sense her fear.

"My people will find you and kill you all," she threatened. "Let me go now and you have my word, we won't look for you."

"Oh, your _word_?" Billy mocked. "Sure, let me just untie you," he added, words dripping with sarcasm.

"We're trying to survive, just like you."

"Looks like your people got it a little easier than us," one of the other guys commented.

"Billy, what the hell is this?" A new man emerged from behind the gang, clearly irritated by Grace's presence. "I said spy on 'em, not kidnap one of them."

This man looked similar to Billy, though his hair was darker and wasn't tied back. It dangled wildly at his shoulders, a scruffy beard and a leather jacket complementing the whole rough, biker image. Grace couldn't help noticing a hideous necklace draped around his neck, made of what looked like skitter claws. She felt bile in the back of her throat at the sight of it. The wearer didn't look pleased to see Billy had acquired a hostage.

"Come on, bro," moaned Billy. "What else could I do? _She_ came after _us_."

Billy's brother looked at him incredulously and then pointed at Grace. "This little girl came after _you_? Jesus, Billy."

"She's tough, Johnny. Might come in useful," suggested Billy. "Last one did."

Grace narrowed her eyes at them, her heart beating fast. Luckily her fear came off more as anger. "You don't know who you're dealing with."

The brother stared at her. "Au contraire, sweetheart. We've had our eye on you. All of you. So what are you, some kind of resistance?"

Grace said nothing.

He came closer. "We noticed you have a lot of people, a lot of supplies. Supplies we could use."

"Maybe you should have asked nicely," she told him sarcastically. She was determined not to break.

The man stood perfectly still, and then he smirked. "Haven't you heard? Being nice gets you squat nowadays." He turned to Billy. "You know what, brother. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea." Looking at Grace, his smirk grew. "How much do you think your people would pay to get you back?"

Grace instantly thought of her father. She was sure he'd do anything to protect his children.

"I liked the look of that sweet 50-Cal you got on the back of that GTO. You think that'd be a decent trade?"

"Go to hell," snapped Grace.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

"What about tonight?" the guy next to Billy asked. "Is that still on?"

"They were sniffin' round the armoury last night before the robot fired on 'em. Bound to make a second attempt, don't ya think?" Pope answered. "Maybe they'd wanna stock up before looking for the girl." He clapped his hands. "Alright. We got preparations to do. Get Maggie, she can keep an eye on the girl."

Grace sighed deeply as they left. At least they weren't going to hurt her – yet. She had time. Maybe whoever this Maggie woman was would take pity on her and let her go. But when Maggie arrived, she didn't seem to be on Grace's side.

Her long, blonde hair hung down past her shoulders; she was covered head-to-toe in blacks and greys and her face was hard to read – expressionless. She stared at Grace, her gaze empty. She didn't say a word.

After a while of silence, Grace thought it best to try and reason with the woman. She was surprised the gang had a female member – maybe she understood what Grace was feeling.

"Look, you can't keep me here. They can't do this."

"They do whatever the hell they want," replied Maggie.

"Do you really expect my people to make a deal with you?"

Maggie placed a hand on her holstered pistol and sat down on an old, cracked table in the corner. "Doesn't matter. Billy likes the look of you. He's not gonna let you go anywhere."

Grace felt her skin start to crawl. Her blood started to heat up with anger, with fear. She struggled against the bonds around her wrists and ankles, but they were too tightly bound to the wooden chair. The more she struggled, the more it cut into her flesh. Maggie sat quietly for ages, unconcerned by the attempts at freedom.

"Why are you with them?" Grace interrogated angrily. She couldn't understand why anyone would willingly put up with such scum. And scum – she feared – was putting it lightly.

Maggie paused a moment. Her gaze was low as she spoke. "I met Billy a few months back. He was as big a _goddamn_ _gentleman_ as he is now. I was alone, starving. Defenceless. He promised me things. They gave me food, shelter, weapons. For a girl who had nothing, it sounded like a pretty sweet deal." She sighed. Grace was sure she sensed a deep sadness in the woman's eyes. "I didn't have people willing to make a trade for me." She jumped to her feet and neared Grace. "Don't worry. They're not gonna kill you." She paused, staring at the younger girl, perhaps some regret in her dark eyes. "But you might wish they had."

* * *

><p>Hours passed. Grace was getting tired, dehydrated. She'd been silent, worrying about what the gang might do to her father and the rest of the group. Her family must be worried sick about her. If only she could reach out to them somehow, tell them they were going to walk into a trap. And what about Ben? They were supposed to look for him tonight. Now they were probably out looking for Grace instead. She thought about Matt, sat back at base, knowing his entire family were in danger while he sat and waited. She had to make it out of here. She had to.<p>

Maggie was leant against the wall, looking bored as hell. Grace made one last attempt to persuade her to let her go.

"Please," Grace said, her tough façade faded. "I have a family. They _need_ me." Maggie just stared at her. "I'm sorry about what these guys did to you, but you need to let me go. I know you don't want them to hurt anyone else, I know you're different to them."

Maggie bit her lip, her eyes sailing down again.

"You can escape with me. You can join The Resistance. Just don't let them do this."

For a moment she looked to be really considering it, but then one of the men opened the door and told her to come help out with 'the prisoners'. Grace's heart sank. They'd caught her father, and likely Hal too, presuming they were both still alive.

"Alright." Maggie headed for the door.

The guy stood still, staring at Grace. She bore her teeth and lunged towards him, as far as her bonds would allow, and made him jolt with surprise.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Cueball," Maggie said, pushing past him. "Let's go."

The door shut. Grace was alone. Instinctively, she began struggling with the rope again, knowing her family and friends were in danger gave her some extra incentive and adrenaline. After a few minutes, her skin was red raw with rope burns. Untying them was hopeless. Instead, she focused on leaning her entire weight forwards, so that she was just about standing on her feet with the chair on her back. Then she took a deep breath, and forced herself backwards onto the floor.

Pain erupted through her as the chair broke into pieces. Bits of wood stuck into her body, causing her to cry out. But now she could loop the rope out of the wood and free herself from the broken chair. Her hands were still tied, but at least she could move around now. She rolled onto her side. Then, bringing her legs up as high as she could, she tried to loop them back through her cuffed wrists. She stretched her arms as far as they could go, and pulled a few muscles in the process, but biting down hard on her lip, she managed to ignore the pain and bring her arms in front of her. She leapt up immediately, relieved to have the use of her legs again. They were still a bit wobbly, but she hadn't time to worry about that now. She looked around for something – anything – she could use to cut the tie around her wrists. She looked frantically through drawers and cupboards, but could only find useless bits and pieces – paper-clips, pens and pencils, notebooks – until she spotted a letter opener ratting around in the back of a drawer. Perfect.

Once she'd grabbed the handle of the object, she made an attempt to turn the sharp end on the rope. Then she started to cut. The rope wasn't too thick, but it would still take a while. Luckily, nobody seemed to be coming. Probably too preoccupied with whatever they were doing to Tom's group.

After minutes of cutting, she had finally managed to free herself. The rope fell to the floor and she started to rub her sore wrists, deep, red rope marks engraved in her skin. Now she had to find her father. She was about to head for the door when she heard footsteps.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest. Panicking, she wielded the letter opener in her palm and went to hide behind the door as it opened. Cueball sauntered in, holding a pistol at his side.

"Let's go, sweetheart."

He instantly froze at the sight of the broken chair on the floor in front of him. He spun around just in time to watch as Grace charged at him with the knife-like object and stabbed him right through the shoulder. He screamed in agony. She ran, leaving the weapon halfway into Cueball's bleeding flesh.

She ran through corridors, passing lockers and classrooms. A school. She had been taken to a school. Some of it had collapsed in on itself, but otherwise it was still in good condition. No wonder they had chosen this place as their hideout. She kept running, gasping for breath, and then turning a corner, she smashed right into Maggie who sent her tumbling to the ground in a painful heap.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded. For some reason, she seemed almost scared. Then Cueball came hurtling round the corner, a trembling hand over his wound, blood seeping through his fingers. His free hand pointed his pistol straight at Grace. He was both pathetically wounded and red with rage.

"Get up, bitch," he ordered furiously.

And just a moment ago, it had been 'sweetheart.'

She did as he said and got to her feet. Maggie led the way, Cueball behind with his gun to Grace's back. She followed Maggie into a huge room filled with seats pointing to a stage at the front. What was on it nearly made her jump. A dead skitter. Laid out on some kind of pillar surrounded by Roman stage props. Its spidery legs extended outwards, eyes closed firmly shut. She was also surprised to see Anne knelt down next to a wounded Billy. It looked like he'd been shot.

_Good_, Grace thought maliciously. She hoped it stung like a bitch.

In the front rows, she spotted more familiar faces: her dad, Hal, Karen, Dai, and Anthony. She couldn't help smiling a little with the relief that they were safe. They all turned to look at her. Tom had gone pale, his eyes wide with shock at her entrance. Hal looked furious.

"Here she is!" Billy sang cheerfully as she made her way to the front. "Hey, stand next to Goldilocks, would you, darlin'?"

She guessed that he meant Karen, who for some reason was the only one standing. She took up a place next to Karen and gave her a look. She wasn't quite sure what she meant by it. Perhaps it was sympathy. Perhaps it was a mutual disgust. Or maybe it was a shared glance of fear. Men like Billy were dangerous, but give a man like that a gun and a posse and there's no limits to what he's capable of. He had a sickly look of satisfaction on his face, sprawled out on that stage with a bandage tightly wrapped around his right thigh. She hoped it hurt. She hoped it really hurt.

"Ain't we lucky, Cue? Another blonde, and a brunette," he called to his friend who was still nursing the stab wound Grace had left him.

She sensed Tom behind her, getting to his feet, only to be shoved back down by Cueball's bloodied hand.

Beside her, Grace could practically feel Karen's fury bubbling up as the older girl glared coldly at Billy, and suddenly Grace found herself respecting Karen a little bit more than usual. But they hadn't been paying attention to Maggie, whose anger eclipsed both of theirs.

She coolly asked Anne whether Billy was going to make it. Confused by the question, Anne confirmed yes. _Shame, _Grace thought quietly. How she felt like shooting him in the other leg. Maggie had a similar idea as it turned out. The group took cover as shots fired from Maggie's pistol. And then Billy and Cueball were lying dead in pools of their own blood.

Much like everyone else, Grace stood, wide-eyed at Maggie and the bodies. She didn't know if she should feel happy, relieved. She just felt sick.

Maggie calmly holstered her weapon. "After they grabbed me three months ago, well, let's just say Billy deserved to die. Cueball thought he was better because he brought chocolate. He wasn't."

For a moment, nobody moved. Grace wasn't sure if anybody was going to start shooting again. When all seemed safe, she went to untie her family. After everyone was free, Dai and Anthony started to collect the gang's weapons. Tom smiled, almost tearfully, his hand rising up to Grace's cheek as if to inspect her face, to double-check she was still in one piece.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"We were looking for you. Weaver said we could send out a search party as long as we still hit the armoury. Thank God you're safe."

She felt Hal's hand on her shoulder, his other hand around Karen. "I'm glad you're okay. We were worried for a second there."

Anthony cleared his throat. "Guys, we gotta get back and stop them."

Grace looked around her, confused. "Stop who?"

"The rest of this lowlife gang," Anthony answered. "They've gone to make a deal, and they're using our lives as leverage."

"Let's grab everything we need and go," agreed Tom.

"What about her?" Dai was next to Maggie, pointing a gun towards her. She wasn't putting up a fight.

Tom fell silent for a second. Grace watched him think. She knew what he was going to say, even if she didn't exactly agree with it.

"Bring her," he decided. Then he turned to Maggie. "You want a chance to fight on the good side?"

Her face barely changed from a frown, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I want a chance to fight."

"Good enough," Tom replied.

Anthony handed out their confiscated weapons, pausing when he got to Tom. "You sure about this?"

"She saved our lives," Grace said, staring at Maggie. She didn't trust her, but she sure owed her, and Tom wasn't the only one who wanted to see what she could do for The Resistance.

"Alright," said Anthony. "Let's hurry."

* * *

><p>Back at camp, it looked like Weaver had made the deal. Billy and Cueball's people were currently loading boxes of supplies into the GTO. Grace took cover with Tom, Hal and the others before opening fire. Anne had warned Weaver that they were coming, and so most of the other civilians and fighters were out of the way. Billy's brother appeared to be the ringleader of the gang, shouting orders at his men as they took cover behind the banged-up old GTO. One of them had managed to climb up to the machine gun on top of the car and started showering bullets in Grace's direction. Tom pushed her down in time, his hand on her back as they all hid from the incoming bullets. She watched nervously as her father then peered over with his weapon and fired. Luckily, he managed to take out the guy on the GTO.<p>

"Can you hear me, Pope?" Tom yelled.

"My ears are still ringing, but yeah!" a voice replied. "Those my own guns you're firing at me?"

"They are!"

"You better run, professor! Ships are gonna target those flares."

"You're in the middle of the flares."

A pause. He knew he was beat. Grace gripped on to her rifle a little tighter.

"What are my options?"

"Join or die," answered Tom.

"Just like the revolution, huh?"

"Just like."

Pope chose neither. He tried to make a run for it, but the airships got to his gang first. Everyone looked up as the lights beamed overhead, targeting the GTO. Grace prepared herself for the oncoming explosion.

The earth shook, and she had to shield her eyes from the bright eruption of fire where Pope's gang had been. The Loud bang thundered through her and then the disgusting stench of death and smoke offended her nostrils. Pope just managed to avoid oblivion, but Weaver had him at point blank range. Grace emerged with the others, their rifles poised, surrounding him.

The Second Mass had their first prisoner.

Weaver had decided that the school would make an excellent new base for the time being. There were plenty of rooms and space for civilians and fighters to set up camp, plus the underground tunnels that may come in handy again in the future.

Grace dropped her flimsy bag of belongings next to a cot in one of the classrooms, next to Tom's and her brothers'. Lourdes had kindly offered to share her room with her, but Grace thought she'd feel better bunking with her family. If she ever got sick of the boisterous behaviour of her male companions, she could always move in with Lourdes then. She felt like the girl could use a friend. Actually, Grace was a bit of a loner herself. She was friendly enough to everyone, but she hadn't really spent a lot of time with anyone apart from her brothers. And her dad – but he was always busy with something or other, especially now he had been made Weaver's second in command. He had to think about the best interests of the entire resistance now, not just his family.

Sighing, she sat down on her new bed. She felt a bit like she was in the army, bunking on cots next to her comrades after a long day of training. At least it was better than sleeping on the floor. She just wished she could forget the events of the day. She had just heard that Click had been killed by Pope's gang while they were at the armoury and she couldn't help but think it was somehow her fault. Her thoughts turned to Anthony. The two of them had been like twins – inseparable – always hanging out together, always finishing each other's sentences. He must be taking the loss badly.

As for Grace, she couldn't stop thinking about Billy. Or Cueball. Or Maggie, who had decided to join the Second Mass and earn her place among them. She had tried not to let it bother her, not to let her fear show. She had been determined to escape, and she managed to do that unscathed. But she couldn't help wondering what would have happened to her if she hadn't. Would she have suffered Maggie's fate? Just the thought of it made her stomach turn, made her shiver with disgust. She couldn't stop replaying it in her head. She didn't just feel disturbed – she felt _angry_.

Soft footsteps approached behind her. Looking up, she saw Hal offering her a comforting smile. "How're you doing?" he asked, sitting down on the cot next to her.

"Me? I'm fine, just a little shaken up."

He gave her a look. He knew there was something she wasn't saying. They were also like twins in that respect. Being only a year apart, they'd been very close as children, and while Grace often acted as if she held more responsibility, more maturity, they often had similar thought processes. Although, they clashed a lot of the time as well.

"You can tell me if you want. I won't judge too much." He nudged her and a smirk formed in the corner of her mouth.

Alright. Sighing again, she thought about the previous evening and what could have happened to her, or even her family. They had come across desperate people before in their travels. But this time...this time was different.

"It's just...when did we get to the point where we do these awful things to each other? Humanity. I thought that meant something. I thought that's what we were fighting for. I thought we were on the same side, but it turns out, we're just as evil and screwed up as our enemy."

Hal nodded slowly. "That's just...people." Grace looked at him through narrowed eyes. That hadn't been the comforting speech she was expecting. Hal sensed her lack of appreciation and shrugged playfully. "Hey, it's not the same world anymore, Grace. It's times like this you gotta pick a side. Good or bad. Pope's gang chose wrong. Not all people want to save humanity. There were scumbags before the world ended. An alien invasion just gave them more reason to act like assholes. They want to exploit it. That's the way it is. All we can do is keep fighting the good fight and thank our lucky stars we haven't turned into one of them." He glanced at Grace, almost apologetically. "I'm sure dad could say something better."

Grace felt a grin emerge on her face. "No, you said it just fine...in your own way."

He stifled a laugh. "Listen, I'm glad you're okay. Don't let it bother you." He placed a hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was serious. "You can talk to me if you need to, you know. I might not have very good advice, but I'll listen. Or you could talk to Lourdes, or maybe Anne."

She smiled appreciatively at him. "Thanks. I think I'll be alright."

Hal glanced at his watch. "We better get a move on if we're gonna find Ben."

"You sure Maggie knows where he is?"

"Worth a shot. Let's go get dad. I think he's out front."

Grace smiled an almost cautious smile. She didn't want to get her hopes up. There was the possibility that this was just another dead end, and Ben would remain lost to them. When she and Hal had seen him, he hardly seemed human. Just what would they be getting back if they did find him? With that harness on him, there was no telling what they were dealing with. What if they got Ben back, only to lose him again? Hal sensed her worries. As Grace got up to go, he looked her directly in the eyes.

"Hey, we're going to find him. We're not gonna lose him like we lost mom."

She felt dread in the pit of her stomach, remembering it again, the moment they lost her. She straightened up, swallowing the pain, finding that determination that made each day a little easier to face.

"No, we're not," she said. "Let's go get him back."

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

They found him. They'd figured it all out now. By night, the kids were kept in a hospital. By day, they did this. Grace looked down from the roof – their hiding spot – onto the roof of the building opposite. About six harnessed kids were on top of it, picking up bits of scrap metal and throwing it off the building into huge piles. Ben was one of them.

"They flew here in spaceships and turned kids into slaves just to collect old toasters and copper wire?" said Maggie incredulously.

Tom put down his binoculars and sat against the wall. "Well, there must be some reason for it."

"Maybe they're building something," Grace suggested.

"Like what?" asked Hal, who was crouched down beside her.

"I don't know. I don't want to know. I just want to get Ben away from it," she said.

Hal turned towards Tom. "You think they know what's happening to them?"

"I hope not," their father replied.

Grace took the binoculars and peered through them at her zombified little brother. He was covered in dirt, dressed in ragged clothing, just like he had been the other day. His movements were so automatic, walking back and forth to pick up metal and throwing it down to other harnessed children below. The instinct to just call out to him was strong, but she knew that would be useless. Would Ben even acknowledge her? Even if he didn't, the mechs patrolling on the ground would. She handed the binoculars to Hal, who gave them to Anthony. He started to point out how many mechs were below. Four so far.

"Skitter by the collection bin," Karen added.

"And another one inside," said Anthony.

"Six of us, five of them. I like those odds," said Tom, wiping the dirt off his face. Grace noted how tired he looked. She could tell he'd hardly been sleeping. Anthony seemed to notice it too.

"All right, we do this now... tired as we are, low on ammo, low on supplies...I mean, losing Click was enough, wasn't it?"

Grace frowned. Anthony was still hurting over Click. She had told him how sorry she was about his death on the way over here, but he seemed more focused on the mission, as if saving Ben and the other kids would somehow make it better. But now he was clearly having doubts.

Tom was adamant. They were going to save Ben. Now. Everyone was in agreement. Grace was only just aware of Karen next to her, leaning over the side when the blonde suddenly recoiled and let out a gasp. A piece of the roof tiling had fallen and smashed to the ground. Almost immediately, a mech started shooting. Grace angrily pulled Karen up.

"Let's go."

It was just like she had feared. It had all gone wrong. She had returned back to John F. Kennedy High School with still one brother down. Hal's words rung in her head. _We won't lose him. We won't lose him like we lost mom. _She believed him. She just wanted the nightmare to end. It made her restless thinking of him out there, doing the aliens' slave labour, oblivious to what torture he was being put through. She just wanted him back safe. They all did.

Anne was there to welcome them back. But as soon as they stepped through the door there was a bombardment of people wanting to know if the group had seen their missing kids. Tom tried to tell them they hadn't been close enough to see, but the group only got bigger. She felt a tug on her sleeve. It was one of the boys from the biology classes.

"Did you see my older sister?" he asked Grace sadly, a pout between his chubby cheeks. She frowned, about to answer when suddenly everyone began holding up photographs of their lost loved ones.

"Excuse me. Um, did you, uh, see my daughter?"

"No. No, no, I'm sorry," answered Tom, studying the photograph. But the questions kept coming.

"What about my niece? She's only eight."

"Our son... he's been missing since the second week. Maybe you saw him."

"Both my children are out there. What about_ them_?"

Tom put a hand to his head as the crowd all started talking at once. He looked like he was about to faint. Mike came to his defence before Grace could, telling everyone to back off and that they were all in the same boat. They all had someone missing, Mike included. He'd asked Grace before if she'd seen his son, Rick, back when she had originally found Ben. Unfortunately, she hadn't remembered seeing him. Then Anne had a great idea. Everyone was to put photographs and descriptions of their missing loved ones on the school announcement board. Immediately, everyone began to pin up their pictures.

Grace took this as a good opportunity to talk to her father. "You okay?" she asked, approaching him. "You look pale."

"I'm fine, Grace," he smiled reassuringly at her. "Just disappointed." He paused a beat, noticing Anne and Mike trying to get his attention. "Uh, why don't you go to the gymnasium, help out with the kids. I'll meet you there later."

She forced a smile. "Alright."

She watched Tom walk off with Anne and Mike. It looked like something important was going on. Later, she heard from some of the kids that Colonel Porter was back. That was some good news at least. She supposed that was where her father had disappeared to. Meanwhile, the gymnasium was alive with civilians. Many of them were kids, scattered about the hall, taking part in different activities. The smaller ones were playing, others were sitting down at desks while a civilian woman taught them all about "the cell". The good thing about being at a school was that they weren't short on educational supplies. The kids had their own textbook each, and plenty of pens and paper, and the teacher even had a chalk board to write on.

Grace had agreed to take the odd shift to supervise the children while she wasn't out fighting. A lot of the adults were busy with their own tasks, handing out spare clothes and supplies etc., and since her mission was over for now, she had nothing else to do. She had become a favourite among adults when it came to helping out with the kids. She didn't mind. She got on well with children. Probably having younger brothers helped - she was used to their antics.

She had spent a short while with the younger children, pushing a little blonde girl along on her tricycle, building blocks with the little boys, that sort of thing. Then she had moved on to helping the older children with their biology work. Man, it hadn't been too long ago she had been doing this work herself, studying to get good grades, dreaming about college and her future. It felt like a million years ago now. It was amazing how much she remembered.

She looked over at her youngest brother behind her, sitting alone on the bleachers. Matt had been sulking about something the whole time, pouting to himself. That moody face made him look like a toddler again. He'd been acting a bit like one too. He refused to get involved in any of the activities and he'd already had his classes for the day so he didn't want to join in with the other lessons. She'd tried to ask him what was wrong but he wouldn't tell her. Even Lourdes had tried to get some answers out of him, but in the end she went to find Tom to see if he could do any better. Whatever it was, their father would get it out of him. Grace gave Tom a brief smile as he entered the gym with Lourdes, then he sighed as he saw Matt and went over to sit next to him.

As the two talked, Grace spotted Hal and Karen squabbling from outside the gym. Karen seemed to be upset about something, but then again she rarely ever looked happy anyway. She stormed off, leaving Hal exasperated by her exit. He huffed, agitated, then noticed Grace staring at him.

"What's eating her?" she asked as he walked towards her.

"She's just upset about wrecking the mission earlier."

"Your words, not mine," said Grace, raising her brows.

Hal clenched his jaw. "Shut up. She's really cut up about it. She thinks she let us down."

"She kinda did. We were so close to getting Ben out of there!"

"I know. _She_ knows. She's beating herself up enough."

Grace shrugged a shoulder at him and turned her attention back to the class.

"What?" said Hal. "Oh, alright. I know you have a problem with Karen."

"Me? _No_!" Grace replied with sarcasm.

"You don't like her."

"I liked her fine. Before she started liking you."

"Oh, I get it." Hal bit his lip, annoyed. "You don't like the fact that we're together."

Grace rolled her eyes.

"It was exactly the same with Rita," complained Hal. "Look, I'm a big boy. I don't need you looking out for me."

"I'm...just..._concerned_."

"Well, don't be. Maybe you'd like more people if you actually got to know them."

Her lips parted, almost shocked by the words. But he was right. She kept to herself a little too much. She looked away so he couldn't see how much the words affected her. "Fine. I'll talk to her, tell her she's not to blame for what happened."

"Thank you." Hal looked over and saw Matt clinging to Tom. "What's up with him?"

Grace looked over, saw the two embracing. She instantly forgot her anger. "Oh, I think Matt's worried about the harnesses."

Hal frowned. "Wish he didn't have to worry about stuff like that."

"We're all worried."

When Grace turned around again, Tom was approaching them. "Hey."

"Is Matt okay?" asked Grace.

"He's just scared. He's worried that removing the harness will hurt Ben."

"Will it?" questioned Hal, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, that's the thing. I've just come from a meeting with Colonel Porter. He's brought a doctor with him. One who can remove the harnesses safely."

Grace lit up, a grin spread across her face. "That's great!"

"It's promising news."

Hal noticed his reluctance. "Don't you think he can do it?"

"If Porter says he can, I believe him. I'm just...cautious." He smiled at them. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Sounds good to me," said Hal.

"Is he here now?" asked Grace.

"I was going to head off and meet him later, if you want to join me."

Grace jumped at the chance. She was excited to meet the man who was going to save her brother. Finally, there was hope. Maybe they would be able to get Ben back safely afterall. After she had finished up in the gymnasium, Grace and her father went to visit Anne and Lourdes to see if they had met with the new doctor yet. Anne told them he had already explained the procedure to her, and it seemed relatively simple. The more Grace heard about it, the more confident she became that Ben would be okay. Deep down she still had her doubts, but she'd suffered enough losses. She needed a win. She even found herself giggling when Lourdes claimed the doctor was good-looking for an 'older' forty-something, to which her father winced and pretended to be wounded. She gave her dad a mock look of pity and he rolled his eyes at her, smiling.

"So who is this medical genius?" asked Tom curiously.

Neither of them had anticipated the answer.

"Harris," replied Anne. "Dr. Michael Harris."

Grace stopped laughing. Her father had too. In fact, they had both gone incredibly quiet. Anne stared at them.

"Do you know him?"

"Tom?" a new voice interjected.

Both Masons turned to see Michael Harris stood, blinking at them. He seemed just as surprised to see them as they were to see him. Of course, Grace thought, he probably never expected to see them ever again. Not after leaving her and Rebecca for dead.

"You're alive," said Harris. "Thank God."

"So are you," said Tom. And there was no disbelief in his voice. He knew why Harris was alive. So did Grace. She had been there when he fled during the attack. She had pleaded with him to help her, and he ran off like the coward he was. Every muscle in her body tensed. She looked at the doctor and could feel nothing but venomous hate.

She couldn't stop herself. She steamed towards the man and punched him hard, right in the jaw. She heard the exclamations around her, but she was blinded by fury. She screamed at Harris, who was nursing his injury. Tom had to grab her and pull her away, asking Anne to look after her.

"He killed my mother!" she yelled, as Anne tugged her towards the door. "He _killed_ my mother!"

Anne took her out into the corridor, where Grace kicked a nearby locker. She rested her forehead against one, breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. But the image of her dead mother's body only made her more furious with Harris. After a moment, she felt Anne's warm hand on her shoulder, and then a tear ran down her face. Suddenly she felt horribly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," said Anne, her voice calm. "It's okay."

Lourdes came out a second later. She explained that Tom and the doctor were discussing something. What was there to discuss? The man was a coward, he couldn't be trusted. He was responsible for Rebecca's death. The only reason he was alive was because he sacrificed her.

Anne stayed with her for a while. Grace sat, propped up against the dented locker she had kicked, waiting for her father and Dr. Harris to finish talking. For some reason, just Anne being there seemed to comfort her, even when she wasn't saying anything. Anne was someone she trusted completely, but was another person she hadn't fully got to know yet. She did know that Anne was a skilled doctor who used to be a paediatrician, but had also learnt a lot on the job, forced to heal wounds she would have never imagined before the invasion. But the Resistance needed a combat medic, and she stepped up. Grace admired that.

Tom came out of the room, looking haggard. Grace got to her feet, anxious to hear what her father had to say.

"He wants us to bring Ben to him," said Tom.

"No," replied Grace sternly. "No way."

"He knows how to remove the harness," explained Tom. "He's our best chance."

"I don't trust him. You can't give Ben to him! Dad, he's the reason mom is dead!"

Tom looked down regretfully, nodding. "I know. I know." He looked into Grace's bright eyes, and she could see how much this meant to him. "He can save Ben. He wants to redeem himself." Grace was quiet. She didn't like it. She didn't want to be in the same room as Harris, let alone put her brother's life in his hands. "If you can't trust him, trust me."

"And me," said Anne. "I will be there with him during the procedure. I won't let anything happen to Ben."

Grace sighed. She still didn't like it. It seemed like everytime they were given a miracle, it was then immediately snatched away. But she could see how much her dad was counting on this, could see the hope and desperation in his eyes. "Okay."

Tom kissed her forehead. "It'll be fine. We'll get Ben tonight. Everything will be fine."

Her father was so convincing when he spoke like that, but Grace wasn't so naïve. It made her sick to think the man who left her for dead was going to be playing with her brother's life as well. She went off to prepare for the mission, thinking about Harris the entire time. The more she thought about the whole thing, the more concerned she felt. Thinking of him, she couldn't stop picturing her mother on the ground, those skitters crawling over her, towards Grace, hissing and spitting at her.

She shuddered as she packed up her extra ammo. Then she made a promise to herself. If Harris put Ben's life in danger in any way, she was going to make him pay.

She swore it.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was still light when they headed out. Each of them checked the announcement board before they left, scanning over the dozens of photographs and messages that were plastered over the wall — too many to count. Scenes of young kids – some with their families, some standing alone, smiling – stared back at Grace. It reminded her more of a memorial. There were scribbles from parents, some of them prayers, others simply notes asking for their kids to return safely. All these faces of missing children, frozen in time, screamed at her, pleaded with her. But the team had been told to save only one child this time. Only Ben.

* * *

><p>At the labour site, Karen and Grace were holding up in one of the empty buildings, hidden in the shadows as mechs marched back and forth, making the ground shudder. Grace kept looking over at her, remembering that she had promised Hal she'd make amends with her. She almost decided against it, but considering how wrong this mission might go, she thought she may as well say something before Karen willingly risked her life to help save Ben.<p>

"Hey...I wanna say thank you. For helping us get Ben," she said in a hushed voice as she hunched by the doorway. Karen was on the other side of the door. She gave her a fleeting, deadpan look.

"Sure."

Grace shifted her weight a little, her feet beginning to ache. "Don't beat yourself up about earlier. Mistakes happen."

"Yeah, I know. We'll get it right this time."

Grace hesitated. She kept seeing Hal in her head, remembering how much time he and Karen had spent over the last few months. He was fond of her, and perhaps she really did care for him too. Grace didn't regret being harsh with her, but she did see that she could cut the girl some slack. For Hal. "Sorry... if I've given you a rough time," she said. "I never really trust other people around my brothers."

She thought she saw Karen smile slightly. "I get it." She turned her head away, and for a few seconds Grace thought that was the end of the conversation. But after taking in a deep breath, Karen continued: "I felt like that about my little sister."

Grace stared at her. "You had a sister?"

"A long time ago."

The answer was met with silence. Grace didn't know why she was so surprised. She just couldn't imagine Karen with any siblings. She'd never mentioned it before. Then again, it's not like the two of them had had very many conversations.

"What happened? Was it the invasion?"

Karen looked down and for a long moment, Grace thought she wasn't going to respond. "It wasn't that. She was born with some kind of defect. She didn't make it to her third birthday."

There was another long pause. Hal had been right. She really did know nothing about Karen. She couldn't imagine losing a sibling at such a young age. She didn't _want_ to imagine it. "I'm so sorry, Karen."

A shrug. "It's okay." Then silence. Grace didn't ask her any more about it. In a weird way, she thought herself lucky. She could have ended up like Karen, Jimmy, Lourdes, or any of the others who had lost their entire families. She was lucky that she still had her father, her brothers, and that they still had a chance to save Ben.

Hal returned shortly after, taking up a place next to Grace.

"Okay, we're all set. Just gotta wait for the signal."

"How's it looking out there?" Grace asked him.

"Pretty grim. At least three mechs, couple skitters. But that's what the bomb's for, right?"

"See Ben yet?" asked Karen.

"Not yet."

"Alright. Now we wait."

The three of them held their breaths as another mech came patrolling by their position. Each stomp of its large, mechanical foot as it hit the barren ground made Grace's heart jump. She was beginning to get restless. Had her father not found Ben yet? Where was he? They waited another five minutes, and then they heard an explosion in the distance. They all looked at each other.

"They must have Ben," said Karen urgently.

Hal was already on his way out of the building: "Let's go."

Grace followed behind, her heart racing. This was it. The three of them ran around the side of the building to see black smoke rising up into the air, a damaged mech on the ground and several blank-faced harnessed kids standing around. Through the smoke they could see the truck on the other side of the building, ready to go. Her father was leaving the vehicle, racing towards them, panic in his face. A fierce blast divided them. She almost toppled over. A mech on the roof above had shot some kind of missile and sent Tom flying.

"DAD!" she screamed.

Hal and Karen started shooting at the mech above. Grace ran after her father, who she could see lying on the ground beside some rubble. But, through the smoke of the forming fire, a skitter suddenly appeared in front of her, screeching loudly at her. Before she could run, it lifted one of it's long, scaly legs and hit her, sending her tumbling to the ground onto some bricks.

Her head instantly erupted with pain. For a second, she had no idea where she was. And then she felt blood trickling down her face. She pulled herself up, just in time to see the skitter crawling towards her. She grabbed her gun and started firing, but the bullets seemed to not have much affect on the alien's tough, shell-like skin. It may have slowed it down, but it was still coming. She looked around for Hal and Karen but they were gone. She couldn't see them anywhere – her father and the truck either.

The skitter was furious now. At least, she thought it _looked_ angry, squinting at her through beady eyes, making those insect-like noises. She fired again. This time it looked like she wounded it, but the monster retaliated by stabbing at her with its long, sharp claws.

Red, raw pain exploded through her torso. It felt like there were knives sticking inside her skin. She doubled over, breathing hard, trembling. She wasn't going to die. Not now, not here. She kept pulling the trigger, edging back further and further, until the skitter started squealing and clicking in pain. Then the ground starting shaking again. _Thud, thud, thud. _The mech. She could see its large shape in the distance, heading towards her, its mechanical arm already extended.

She ran, narrowly avoiding the bullets flying at her. She managed to get back onto the main road, sprinting with whatever energy she had left. _Keep going, keep going. Don't stop._ Her lungs began to hurt with her hard panting, her legs weakening, every inch of her shaking. Her head was dizzy, blood was dripping through her t-shirt from where the skitter's claws had torn her flesh. Her entire body screamed in agony.

She just managed to reach an empty store, and then she collapsed in the doorway, breathing hard, her body aching, her wounds stinging. Her head was still throbbing as she propped herself up against the wall – eyelids drooping, breathing softening as her brain and body longed for rest. _Just five minutes_, she thought. _Five minutes rest...Five minutes._

A clatter. She awoke with a gasp, immediately grabbing her weapon. It was dark now, the streets grey and bleak underneath the night sky. How long had she been out? Her head was still thundering with pain, but she pulled herself to her feet and pointed her rifle out into the blackness. Someone was out there.

She stepped lightly into the road, checking all directions, and then she heard crying. Breathless, gasping sobs coming from a figure up the road. He was hunched over a car, hiding his face, but Grace recognised him. She gently approached, appearing along side him.

"_Hal_?"

Hal turned around, his face covered in soot and dirt. He looked a mess, and his eyes were blood-shot and filled with tears. Grace was about to ask what happened, when Hal suddenly dropped to the ground. She managed to catch him and prop him up against the car, but he was losing consciousness.

"Hal? Hal, can you hear me?"

He responded with a groan or two, but he was clearly too weak to form a proper sentence. Grace put his arm over her shoulder and managed to drag him, heavy as he was, into the store. He instantly passed out by some knocked over shelves, exhausted from what had happened to him. Whatever it was, most of the trauma seemed to be internal – he hadn't many visible injuries. She kept thinking she had to get him back to see Anne, but there was no moving him in this state. Karen's absence wasn't lost on her either. All sorts of things kept running through her head. Had she been killed? Harnessed? Tortured? Or had she made it out like Hal?

She sat beside her brother when he began shivering. She'd never seen him like this before, so small and vulnerable. Even in his sleep, he seemed terrified, shaken. She touched his head and noticed he felt hot. He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next hour, Grace smoothing back his hair, making sure he was okay. He kept muttering the odd thing – words that didn't make much sense to her, but he mumbled names too: "_Ben...Karen...Dad." _She gently shushed him and let him rest. God knows he needed it.

Touching his hair, Grace remembered when she was five years old and Hal had let her cut it. Their parents weren't happy to find the boy had a brand new bald spot in the side of his head. She'd felt awful when Tom and Rebecca had chastised her for it, but little four-year-old Hal didn't seem to care. He just went and played with his toys. God, that had been so long ago. But she was glad she remembered. She was glad she remembered that younger, innocent side of Hal. Now he was a man, burdened with saving the world. They were no longer innocent, and Hal didn't want Grace looking after him anymore. But whether he liked or not, that wasn't going to change any time soon.

Hal started coughing and Grace helped him to sit upright.

"Where am I?" he spluttered, a hand rising up to his head.

"It's okay," said Grace. "You're with me. I found you wandering around outside." She paused, seeing his face crease with worry. "What happened?"

"Mech cornered me and Karen...I got knocked out...they...they took her."

"Took her?"

"Yeah...I...I saw Ben."

"You saw him? Is he okay?"

Hal shook his head. "I watched him take Karen away. I couldn't...I couldn't stop him. It was like he was under some spell."

Hal wobbled to his feet, Grace steadying him. "We'll look for Karen."

Again Hal shook his head, harder this time. He looked like he might fall apart. "Grace...I watched them execute a bunch of kids. In cold blood."

She looked horrified. "What? What kids? The harnessed kids?"

"Yeah. Right in front of me." His face began to crumple, reliving it. "I couldn't do anything. I just...I just watched."

Her mouth ran dry. "...Ben?"

"Ben...he wasn't there. He...he...he went away with Karen. I don't know where he went."

"Alright. We need to find dad."

"I couldn't save them," Hal muttered. "I couldn't...I couldn't stop it."

Grace pulled him in a hug. "It's not your fault." She took his shoulders. "I know you're tired, but can you walk home?"

He nodded meekly. Grace helped him limp towards the door. Looking at him, she felt terrible. He was still in shock, still dazed, tormented by what'd he'd seen. And losing Karen. No wonder he was a wreck. He was blaming himself.

They had been walking for almost half an hour when they came across Tom. Hal was still weak, having trouble standing, so after explaining what happened, their father took hold of him and helped him walk home.

"You're lucky your sister found you," he said, looking over at Grace who had taken hold of Hal's other arm. He noticed she was bleeding. "You're hurt."

Grace looked down at the cuts on her torso. "It's okay, it's not that deep." She wasn't worried about herself. She just wanted to get Hal back safely.

When they got back to the school, Tom made sure they both went to see Anne. Hal's visit was brief. He was a bit bruised and battered, but it was nothing serious. Most of the damage seemed psychological. Tom explained that that had been the point. They left Hal as the messenger, the lone survivor to report back to his people. Save one, the rest of them die. That's what they wanted Hal to see. Just saving Ben wasn't an option anymore. They were going to have to save them all.

Grace's appointment was a bit longer. Her wounds needed cleaning, and some stitching, but she got lucky. She could have ended up like Karen or those poor murdered kids. She tried not to think about it. Just imagining it made her sick, she didn't envy what Hal must be feeling.

As Anne finished up her stitching, Grace looked over at Mike's son lying asleep on the other side of the room. She had found out about Mike grabbing him at the labour site. It turned out the procedure had been done on him instead of Ben. Anne told her it had gone well. The boy was still alive, at least, and the harness had been removed. Grace was glad to hear it. That meant there was hope for her brother. She still didn't trust Harris, but he had proved he was capable of removing the harnesses safely. That was a start.

She thanked Anne and headed off to bed, ready to crash. It was pretty late and most people had retired to their rooms and gone to sleep by now, or so Grace thought. She was surprised to hear shouting coming from one of the rooms down the hall.

"You left them both! My _daughter_. My _wife_. You expect me to forgive you for leaving them to die?"

Her father.

"I-I-it wasn't premeditated. It...It was a split second decision!"

Harris.

The two were arguing about that night. It seemed her father couldn't hold on to his anger any longer. She heard a yell and a thud, as if someone had fallen to the floor. There was a bit of muttering then. Grace could only just about hear Harris trying to turn the argument around, claiming Tom should feel guilty for not going on the supply run himself. That struck a nerve with her, her fingernails digging hard in to her palms. She wanted to run in there and scream at the doctor for suggesting such a thing. Things went quiet after that, and then Tom walked out of the room. He didn't see Grace, who was hidden behind a wall not far away. As she walked by the door, she could see Doctor Harris in the room, wiping at blood on his lip. She gave him a long, hard glare and he turned away from her, shaking his head.

"You want another pop at me too?" he asked.

"Don't tempt me," she spat, coming closer. "Look, I'm not going to pretend that what you've done here today wasn't good. You gave that boy, Rick, a chance. And hope for my brother too. But it doesn't mean I have to forgive you. You're still a coward."

Harris scoffed. "You sound just like your old man."

She flashed a sarcastic smirk at him. Then she went to find her father. She found him back at their room, sat against the wall, next to the boys who were sleeping soundly. He looked exhausted, dispirited, anxious. She smiled at him, though inside she was worried. She was worried about all of them. Then, wordlessly, she took up a spot beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. Putting an arm around her, he kissed her head, and they sat together quietly, just thinking.

Grace could have stayed there for hours, in the warmth of her father's arms. Just calmly, in silence. If only she had the other half of her family. Then everything really would be perfect.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Another day, another mission. And Grace wasn't used to being told she couldn't go on one. Unfortunately it was doctor's orders, and her father agreed. If it had been to get Ben, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. She would have marched through those doors regardless of what Anne or Tom or anyone said. But, aggravatingly, their mission to get Ben had been sidelined for yet another supply run. This time for motorcycles. She was furious when Tom told her about it outside the school, just as his group were about to leave, and even more furious when she found out Pope was the one leading them there. She was about to go and have it out with Weaver when Tom stopped her.

"Grace, I already talked to him about it. We need to get the supplies first, then we'll be prepared to get Ben."

"Are you kidding?" Grace said, annoyed. "We're ready _now_! Getting Ben is so far down on Weaver's priority list. He doesn't see individuals, he sees a unit. And as long as he can keep that unit running, he'll let Ben die."

"That's _enough_." She could see her father was frustrated, but he didn't raise his voice.

"She kind of has a point," quipped Hal who was standing beside them.

"Enough, both of you," Tom chastised, losing patience. "I'm angry too. I want to get Ben out of there just as much as you do, but one wrong move and that's it for all of us. We need to be careful. We'll get the bikes, we'll get the supplies we need, then we'll get Ben."

Grace couldn't help showing the disappointment in her face. "I'd feel better about it if you weren't going with _him_." She said the last part loudly so that Pope, who was standing with his back to them not far away, could hear. "I don't trust him."

"Nor do I, but he claims to know the area well, so he's coming along whether we like it or not," Tom replied.

She sighed. "Maybe if I came with you..."

"That's not an option, Grace. Anne said you need to take it easy. You can't risk tearing those stitches."

"Dad!" a small voice interrupted as Matt came running out of the school's entrance.

"Matt, what are you doing here?" Their father looked surprised. "You should be in class."

"I ditched when I heard you were leaving," explained Matt. "I want to come with you."

"Sorry, Shrimp. You got to be _that_ tall to ride," said Hal, hovering a hand above Matt's curly head.

"But I mean it. I want to help," urged Matt.

Grace put an arm around him. "Hey, I have to stay too. You're not the only one."

"That's different," the boy muttered. "You're hurt. I'm not. I can fight. Some of the other kids are learning how to load guns, even shoot."

"Well, that's the other kids," said Tom sternly.

"But, dad -"

"Matt, I said no."

Matt looked down, pouting. Hal patted his shoulder as an apology. They all knew he wanted to fight. Just...not yet.

"We'll be back soon," said Tom. "Go on. Go back to class."

Grace took his hand. "Come on, Matt. I'll take you." She smiled back at Hal and Tom. "Good luck. Be careful."

The two smiled back at her and said their goodbyes. Anthony caught her gaze and he gave her a nod. "Don't worry. I'll watch Pope."

She smiled gratefully at him, a twinge of sadness on her lips as she remembered poor Click. Anthony hid his grief well. She wondered how well he was coping, especially now he had to accompany Pope on a scout to get motorcycles.

She led Matt inside and noticed his sour grimace. "Cheer up. After class, we'll find you something to do, okay?"

"Like what?" He didn't sound the least bit enticed by the offer.

"I don't know yet. I'm sure there's lots of things that need doing round here that you'd be great at."

Matt let go of her hand. "I'm sick of everyone treating me like a kid! I just wanna fight like you guys!"

Before she could say anything, he took off in a huff down the corridor. Calling after him didn't help. She swept back her long brown hair and sighed. "_Good job, Grace_," she told herself sarcastically.

When she turned around, she bumped into Maggie.

"Oh...sorry." Grace was still unused to seeing her face around here. The woman had been going on scouting missions for Weaver recently, though not without heavy guard.

"I was looking for you," said Maggie.

Grace furrowed her brows. "Me? Why?"

"Your captain suggested I should take some people down to the tunnels to make sure it's all secure. You wanna come with?"

"He asked you?"

Maggie folded her arms over her chest. "I know he doesn't trust me. Nobody does. My guess is he just wants to test me, keep an eye on me, that kind of bull. I'll do whatever. Anything beats the crap I went through with Pope and Billy's gang."

Grace bit her tongue. She felt for the girl, she really did. She wanted to trust her. But what she did to Billy and Cueball, she couldn't imagine ever doing something like that to anyone. Not that she blamed her for it. She just wasn't sure what to think.

Maggie was clearly growing impatient. "So, do you wanna help or not 'cause I can always ask someone else."

"Okay," answered Grace. "Sure. Just lead the way."

On their way through the school, they passed Jimmy and Lourdes talking by the noticeboard, under the watchful eyes of all those missing kids pictured on the wall. Grace felt the pangs of guilt stab her heart, seeing the board, knowing that those children were still out there and nobody was looking.

"Hey," she said to Jimmy. He seemed to beam back at her, a grin spreading across his face when he saw her.

"Hey. How's your, uh...?"

It took a second for her to realise he was talking about the wound on her stomach. It still stung but it only really hurt when she moved or stretched that area. "Oh, it's fine. Thanks."

"It must have been pretty scary," added Lourdes. "Coming face to face with one of those things alone."

"Yeah. I don't really remember, to be honest. Adrenaline rush, I guess."

"You're lucky you're alive, Grace," said Jimmy, the grin replaced with serious concern. The expression seemed to age him considerably. "That skitter could have killed you."

"They're not indestructible," said Maggie. "They can die too. If you get close enough."

"Is that what your people did?" Lourdes asked her. "I heard you killed a skitter."

"They're not my people," retorted Maggie.

"I bet no one's ever captured one before. Not until now, anyway," said Jimmy.

Grace had almost forgotten about the skitter her father had managed to knock out and drag all the way back to camp while she and Hal were AWOL. It had sounded so surreal when she was told about it. "Do you know what they're doing do it?" she queried. She still felt weird knowing there was a live skitter under the same roof as all these civilians.

"I think they're taking it to the lab to observe," Lourdes shrugged. "Gives me the creeps knowing it's here."

Jimmy cleared his throat and looked up at Grace with an awkward smile. "Uh, I was thinking...do you wanna come with me after lunch to check out the parking lot? There's some cars left there. It's a long shot, but maybe we'll find something useful? Maybe there's some gas left to replace the amount your dad took for the bikes."

"That's a good idea, Jimmy. Sure. I'll see you later." She noticed Maggie already edging away, so she waved at Jimmy and Lourdes and caught up to her.

"That kid is smitten with you," Maggie remarked, straight-faced as she and Grace headed down the corridor.

Grace looked over at her, bemused. "What? Jimmy? He's my friend."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't look at you like a friend. Just saying."

She paused, then she shook her head. "He's just a kid."

The blonde looked over at her with the hint of a smirk on her lips. "Okay."

Maggie took Grace to a small room with an old, narrow staircase that led down into the tunnels. The narrow corridors were dark and long. Grace could hardly see where they ended so Maggie handed her a flashlight.

Grace took in a breath. "Alright, where do we start?"

"The tunnels extend out around the school grounds but they also lead to exits in the surrounding streets. We scoped them out when we first set up base here. I tried to tell your captain that but I guess he wanted someone he can trust to make sure." Her voice sounded almost bitter.

"Give him time. If you're serious about being one of us, he's gotta make sure you're not a threat."

"A threat. Right."

Grace frowned. Watching Maggie's disappointment, she could tell the girl just wanted to be accepted. "I meant what I said before, about you not being like those guys. Obviously, you wanted out, and now here you are. We've just got to figure out who you really are first."

Maggie stared at her with a sort of resigned expression. "I'll show you the main exits. They should be barricaded."

True to her word, the exits leading onto the outer streets seemed secure. There were piles of furniture and other junk from the school blocking the corridors so if anyone did find the tunnels, they would have a hard time getting through it all. Maggie showed her the exit Pope's gang used to get to and from the base. It had only been blocked with a few lockers stacked on top of each other.

"Is this secure?" asked Grace.

"The guys thought so. It leads out into a remote part of town. Don't think anyone used it before now."

Grace inspected the door. There was a lock, but it had been broken. The stack of lockers seemed to be sufficient enough – she could only open the door ajar, catching a glimpse of the sunlight outside and a staircase that led into a wooded area.

"Well, it looks like there's nothing down here. I'd still suggest blocking off the exits to the school though, just in case...I'll tell Weaver you did what he asked."

Maggie nodded. "You think I'll get enough gold stars for him to stop assigning me babysitters?"

Grace smiled. "He'll come around. He's just cautious. Those guys you were with...they were really bad guys."

Her companion scoffed. "You don't think I know that? Everyone keeps assuming I'm one of them. I _wasn't_. I did what I had to do to survive. And I suffered for it."

"I know. I get it."

"I don't think you do," Maggie said coldly. "I spent day after day wishing I had the strength to just end it all. To put a bullet in those guys, or even myself. Do you know what that feels like?"

Grace couldn't find any words to respond with. She looked almost shocked. The answer was no. Luckily, with all the crap that had happened in the past six months, she could safely say that she had never gotten that low. Not yet, anyway. And she hoped she would never have to experience it. She shook her head gently. But she couldn't help thinking about Pope, about how her father was out there with a man who was capable of making someone feel this way.

"And Pope? Is he one of the guys you'd put a bullet in?"

There was a long pause. Maggie's gaze sailed softly to the floor. "Pope isn't a good guy. Not as bad as Billy or Cueball, but still...if I were you, I'd keep him in that cell."

Grace swallowed hard. She felt a chill roll down her spine. "Pope isn't in his cell. He's taking my father to get bikes in Somerville."

"What?"

"They left earlier today. Weaver's orders."

Maggie shook her head. "I sure hope your leader knows what he's gotten himself in to."

With that, she headed back down the long, gloomy tunnel. Grace watched her disappear into the shadows. Holding her flashlight to her chest, she took in a deep breath and hoped her family would be safe.

* * *

><p>After lunch, Grace and Jimmy began collecting equipment for siphoning gas from the abandoned vehicles outside the school. Grace had already found the spare jerry cans and she knew Scott must have a hose or tube buried in his collection of tools and junk. He was always collecting stuff that might be useful. Grace had been quiet during the whole of lunch. She stared at the floor as they walked through the school corridors, thinking, silent. Jimmy noticed that she was being off and asked what was bothering her.<p>

"Oh, it's nothing. Just worried about my dad and Hal."

She could feel his blue-eyed stare on her as they walked. "They'll be alright. They always are."

She forced a small smile. "Yeah. I know. I just...can't help it."

"I can try and take your mind off it," he offered mischievously.

"Oh yeah?" she grinned.

"I could recite you some cruddy jokes my dad used to tell me."

"Dad jokes? Oh, God."

"They're not all bad. No...well, they are. But you'll laugh. I guarantee it."

"Oh, you guarantee it? Is that a bet?"

"Sure...I'll bet you half of my dinner tonight. If I can't make you laugh, it's yours."

"Alright. Prepare to go hungry. You're on." She stuck out her hand for him to shake when they both heard shouting coming from around the corner. "What the hell?"

They ran towards the commotion. It was coming from the lab. Grace froze in her tracks as soon as she entered the room. The first thing she saw was Mike cradling his boy Rick on the floor. The boy's old harness lay inches from them. Behind them was the skitter her father had caught the previous day, locked in a cage, watching. The sight made her hold her breath. Anne and Doctor Harris were staring at Rick, horrified.

"What happened in here?"demanded Grace.

Mike looked down at his son, then at Grace and the others. There were tears forming in his wide, panicked eyes. "He put the harness on," said Mike weakly. "He wanted to wear it." He looked towards Grace, the grief and confusion clear in his expression. "_How could he do that to himself_?"

* * *

><p>Ben.<p>

That's all she could think about now. She pictured Ben in that lab instead of Rick. Ben reaching for that shell-like harness. Ben placing the thing on his back, feeling it connect up with his spine. _He did it to himself._

Anne explained that the skitter had been using Rick to communicate with them. How the hell was that even possible? For these aliens to control every part of that young boy, to use him like that? It was like Rick was barely human.

She was hardly paying attention to what she was doing, holding the jerry can up to the car's fuel cap as the hose poured out a whole load of nothing. She had been sitting here for at least five minutes, waiting, thinking.

"Everything okay?"

Jimmy made her jolt as he came up behind her. "Oh...yeah."

"Anything?"

She looked inside her jerry can. Nothing. "This one's empty. You?"

"Not much. I think most of them have been picked clean."

Grace sat down against the car and put down the can, saying nothing. She stared out at the sunset, wondering what Ben was doing. Now she was starting to resent the fact her father hadn't gone out to rescue him even more. What if he was like Rick? What if it was too late?

"You're thinking about Rick, right?" asked Jimmy, sitting next to her. "You think Ben might end up like him?"

"I hope not," Grace sighed. She put a hand to her face and rubbed her aching temples. "Mike said when Rick woke up...he didn't even recognise him. How could that be? How could he not recognise his own father?"

"I don't know," Jimmy admitted.

Closing her eyes, Grace put her head back against the side of the car. "I can't lose Ben too."

She felt the boy's hand around her own, and though he didn't say anything, she couldn't help feeling at least a tiny bit better. But then she remembered what Maggie had said to her, about Jimmy liking her as more than a friend, and she didn't know what to think or how to act. She wouldn't bring it up. Jimmy was her friend and she would always be his, no matter how he felt about her. Besides, if Maggie was right, it was only a silly little crush. It would wear off eventually.

They sat in silence for a moment before they started to hear the roars of motorbike engines approaching them. She leapt up to see Hal and Anthony coming to a halt in front of her, each with a bike of their own. Then her father rode up with Dai.

"Dad." Relief swept through her at the sight of him. As soon as he came to a stop, she ran into his arms. "I'm so glad to see you."

Tom put his arms around her, a little taken aback. "Hey...hey is everything alright?" He tilted her head up with his hand, seeing the mix of emotions in her face.

"Yeah. As long as you promise that the next thing we do will be to get Ben."

He released a weary sigh, and then he kissed her forehead. "I promise. Tomorrow. We'll get him tomorrow. Now, help Dai inside, will you?"

"What happened?" Jimmy asked as Grace helped Dai off the bike to see he had been shot in the leg.

"Long story," Dai said, hopping onto his good leg to avoid exacerbating the injury. "I'm gonna need painkillers...lots of painkillers."

"We'll see what Doctor Glass can do for you, man," assured Anthony, smiling.

"Where's Pope?" asked Grace.

"Gone," said Hal. "He took off."

"For real?" Grace smiled to herself. She knew at least one other person who would be happy to hear that news.

While Tom, Hal and Anthony led the bikes away, Grace and Jimmy took Dai to see Anne. On her way past the classroom where the skitter was being held, Grace couldn't help thinking about Rick. Did he really have no control over his actions? What else could the aliens make him do? The thoughts haunted her. It made her worry even more about Ben. She wanted to storm out the school and get him away from there right now, but she knew she couldn't.

She stopped walking when her wound began to throb with pain again. She put a hand over it gently, wincing. It felt almost as if those claws were still lodged inside her, scratching at her flesh. It wasn't too bad, but it was enough to distract her.

"You feeling okay?" asked Jimmy, emerging beside her.

"Yeah. I'm good."

Jimmy cleared his throat. "So I've got a joke...What do you call a disorderly group of cats?"

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "A cat-astrophe."

"Dammit," he mumbled.

"Better step up your game, kid. Your food is on the line."

"Alright, alright," he said, scratching at his shaggy brown hair. He proceeded to tell her several cheap and tired jokes, many of which Grace had heard before. She smirked at a few but didn't laugh. She thought about humouring him, but the jokes were too terrible, even for a fake laugh.

"Jimmy...these are awful."

"I know," he groaned. "Okay. Just one more. Knock knock?"

"Who's there?"

"Noah."

"Noah who...?"

"Uh...Noah good place to eat for dinner?" he said, wincing at his own punchline.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Then she heard the chimes that meant the food was being served. "Let's go," she said, beginning to walk to the dinner hall.

Jimmy sighed in defeat and followed her.

Entering the dimly lit room, Grace could see the hall filled with tables and people. A gorgeous aroma wafted towards her. "What is that amazing smell?" she asked Hal who was collecting plates by the entrance. "I want to eat it."

"_That_ is fresh bread. Can you believe it?" said Hal. "Pope made a bunch of loaves before he ran off."

"He was an asshole, but he sure could cook," said Grace, impressed.

"_What_?" said an amused Matt, appearing behind Hal, obviously having heard Grace's colourful language.

"Woah. Where'd you come from, Shrimp?" asked Hal.

"You didn't hear anything," Grace said, though she couldn't help laughing.

"I can swear, I'm not a baby," insisted Matt. "I'm a Communications Officer. That's what Uncle Scott said."

"You're a what?" said Hal, a confused smile on his lips.

"A Communications Officer. I spent the whole day helping Scott with the radios."

"Uncle Scott gave you a job?" Grace said. "That's great, Matty."

Matt shrugged, but he looked happy with himself. Grace went to sit down on Lourdes' table whilst Hal collected a loaf of bread and Matt ran to greet Tom, who was standing by the entrance with Maggie. Maggie must have heard by now about Pope's disappearance, but Grace couldn't tell at least from her face how happy she was about it.

The table seemed to fill up fast. Dai, Anthony and Anne joined them – Dai seemingly high on painkillers as he wobbled about and insisted on referring to himself in the third person. Everyone seemed to get a kick out of that. On the other side of the table, Lourdes began to say grace under her breath. Hal joined them with a plate of bread for the table, freshly sliced. As he sat down, he added to Lourdes' prayer: "I'm thankful for the motorcycles and the chance we have of bringing back the people we love."

"And I'm grateful we found each other so we don't have to go through these times alone," said Anne, holding onto Lourdes' hand at the end of the table.

Grace looked around at her friends and family. She was grateful too. Grateful that she had people she loved – and people who loved her – to help her survive the terrifying and chaotic place this world had become. She didn't know whether to thank God, or fate, or chance – she was just thankful.

At that moment, Tom sat at the head of the table, next to his two sons and daughter. "Well," he said, "I'm grateful for this bread, even if it did come from Pope."

Grace chuckled, then she felt a small tap on her shoulder. She looked around. Jimmy was holding a plate of bread out to her.

"As promised," he stated.

"Keep it," she said. "You took my mind off worrying. That was the point, right?"

"I guess."

She patted the seat between her and Anthony and Jimmy sat down next to her. Lourdes began her prayer again and everyone joined hands.

"Heavenly father, for everything you've given us and especially for our connection to each other...may we be truly thankful."

In her head, Grace was saying her own prayer. She closed her eyes shut and wished and wished that tomorrow she would find Ben, that he would be alright, and that they would be able to take him home safely. _Please, _she thought_. Let him be safe._

As the prayer came to an end, she whispered under her breath, "Amen."

**TBC**


End file.
